


Body Language

by SayHiDestery



Series: How to: Cultivate a Relationship between Sociopaths [1]
Category: Death Note
Genre: Intimacy, M/M, Meronia, defining intimacy i guess, mello is affectionate, melloxnear - Freeform, mentions of trauma, sarcastic bastards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 10:25:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6113599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SayHiDestery/pseuds/SayHiDestery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Mello lives, Matt is dead, Near and Mello are working together, and both of the young detectives have realized their feelings for each other.  Near is stacking dice and Mello tries to understand the albino a bit better.  Both get a better understanding of the intimacy between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body Language

            Mello could never comprehend Near.  He grew up with the kid – or rather, Mello grew while Near’s face just got less round and his voice dropped like a ton of bricks.  Regardless, they grew up together and in that time Mello still never quite got him.  Granted, he never _really_ tried.  He tried in conventional ways – he read books upon books about autism, CHS, childhood abandonment, synesthesia, _anything_ that might explain why Near was the way he was.  He blamed it on some morbid curiosity.

            The dice rose and fell around him, some towers made from complicated arithmetic sequences while others came from simple aesthetic pleasure and the blankness of his mind.  Near failed to hear the door open, but he did hear it close.  Mello’s footfalls had always been light and focused on the balls of his feet when he wasn’t stomping around like a child.  He didn’t attempt to conceal his footsteps, but Near still strained to hear them without making any physical indication of his awareness. 

            Mello strode up until he was directly behind Near, squatting down and balancing on his toes as he looked over the shoulder of the boy and the actions occupying his hands and mind.

            “Boo,” he interjected the silence softly, barely touching the water’s surface instead of splashing right into it as per his usual fashion.  When the white boy before him gave him no answer – verbal or otherwise – he inched a bit closer until he was sure the boy could feel his breath and heat, “did I scare you?”

            “No,” came the dry reply, the younger boy’s voice its usual throaty tenor that has done a fine job of keeping up with the owner’s androgynous appearance, “were you hoping to?”

            Mello’s lips quirked, considering his answer, “I might have gotten a laugh out of seeing you jump,” he replied, then checked behind them to ensure they were still alone and that Gevanni wasn't trying to sneak in and save Near like the creepy parental figure that he was. “Did you hear me come in?”

            When Mello turned back around, he saw Near give a meek bob of his head which just barely constituted as a nod.  But that’s just how Near was: all silent rooms and white ensemble and subtle body language; gentle voice and round eyes and a snake’s tongue.  Mello used to get violent with Near’s meek gestures when he was fully aware of just how savage and encroaching Near’s mind was.  He used to think this physical gentility was all some act of manipulation, but he’s seen how fragile Near’s body can be.

            Near felt the silence, but chose not to disturb it.  He could not feel Mello’s eyes which led him to assume the boy was in thought.  It wasn’t surprising – he’s had plenty to think about over the last few days.  He was just starting onto a new tower when he felt sturdy hands slide between the folding of his legs and hook around his knees at the same time he felt  a warm chest press against his back for leverage.  He lifted Near up with ease, though the boy dropped the dice and pushed against Mello with impressive stand-alone strength coupled with how little he had been claiming to sleep. 

            “Relax.  Not gonna hurt you, just want to-” he sets Near back down in the pit his crossed legs create.  He lets Near retreat into his ball again, but his legs circle the boy, the bodies pressed chest to back with the warm heels of Mello’s feet brushing the icy tips of Near’s unclothed toes.  Near hesitates in reaching for the dice again, waiting for something more – something less simple and more aggressive – to happen.  Mello counts to ten before making a weak gesture with his hand, “Go on.  Keep playing, or whatever.”  He’s proud of how soft he can keep his voice, pulling the white fleece blanket tighter over his shoulders so it fell into Near’s peripheral vision, hoping it acted well as a white flag.

            It took to the count of twenty and very, _very_ subtle rocking on Near’s part before the spooked boy moved to grab another die.  He fumbled twice, but the trembling hand steadied and Mello was careful not to move.  Slowly Mello lifted his legs, though Near still froze in place, so that his feet were planted firmly on the floor and his elbows could rest on his knees, thus giving Near more space to relax.

            “Did you just wake up?” Near asked, and Mello knew Near was feeling awkward, otherwise he never initiated conversation. 

            “Why?” Mello asked, keeping everything in his voice as soft and casual as possible, like it was the darkest hour of the night and they did this all the time.

            Near took a pause, stacking two more dice before answering, “Because your breath smells like sleep.”

            Mello snorted, shoulders twitching in a laugh, and he leaned a bit closer to Near’s ear in mock bravado, “Are you saying my breath smells bad?”

            Near’s shoulders pinched minutely like they always did when he was amused; it was like his body’s way of laughing. “No, not bad.  It just smells like you just woke up.” Near corrected him and Mello rather enjoyed the lighter, more relaxed pitch his voice took on.

            “Is that something that I can smell?”

            Near shook his head, the curly white locks dancing around his neck, “No, probably not.”

            Mello hummed, content with that interaction.  Near still hadn’t asked him why he was doing this and Mello took that as a good sign.  He watched Near struggle to keep his shoulders down to make himself _look_ relaxed, and Mello let his nose bump the side of Near’s head.  His hair smelled like mint and disinfectant and maybe some of the sweetness of those cigars Rester smoked from time to time.  “Just because you keep your shoulders down doesn’t mean you’re relaxed, Near.”

            There was a long, heavy pause. “I know.”

            “Focus on relaxing, not looking relaxed.” _I know the difference_ , he wanted to add but he felt that might have sounded threatening, or expecting.  He wasn’t sure what to expect.

            “’Kay.” Near nodded, and there was only a small pause before he started stacking dice again.  Mello decidedly thought that was an improvement.  Fifteen minutes passed, maybe twenty, before his right hand slid slowly underneath Near’s as he stretched to place it; a silent request for the die.

            Near let it fall into the bigger palm, watching with interest as Mello’s bigger hand steadily placed the dice in a spot that was incorrect by two places.  When the hand retracted, Near reached up and tapped on the side of the die gently until it was in its proper place. Mello huffed, which caused Near to smirk.

            “Fine, genius.  Where does this one go?” Mello stole another die and held it, following Near’s directions like the claw of a prize machine.  They continued like that for a while, working together to build a tower of cheap dice all while Near sunk slowly back into Mello and Mello slouched forward into Near.  He was slowly building himself a view into Matt, L, and Near’s shared idea.  They worked well together – made best results as a team.  Near had put personal feelings aside for years, he could put aside animosity – except now, as he thought this, he realized the only animosity he harbored towards Near anymore was just his weak grip on a constant, something familiar and nostalgic, perhaps in the same way Near had completely dropped Kira just to make sure Mello lived. 

            Mello struggled to get a die just as Near wanted it and held his breath when Near huffed in frustration and took Mello’s wrist to maneuver the hand himself.  Smiling in victory, he let Near control his hand and retracted it when Near was satisfied.

            “You just touched me.” Mello murmured, his nose bumping Near’s head again but not retracting this time.  He let that small pressure rest there and breathed in all the mint and faint cigar smoke and noticeably the same smell of _clean_ that wafted off the fleece blanket when he first got it. 

            “I know.” Near said, sounding almost shy.

            “On your _own_.” Mello pushed, just barely nuzzling him.

            The conversation dropped when Near seemed uncomfortable and Mello did his best to lull them back into a comfortable silence, not to be shut out or lose ground on him.  When Near relaxed into him again, Mello barely heard Near mumble the word, “Intimate.”  If he couldn’t feel the vibrations through his back, he might have missed it altogether.

            “Hmm?” Mello asked, turning his head barely from where it rested on Near’s shoulder.

            “Intimate.” He repeated, just barely any louder than before.

            Mello settled back against him, “What about it?”

            Near’s lips quirked down in Mello’s periphery, forming his words before he spoke as always, “What do you consider intimate, Mello?”

            Well that’s not the question he was expecting, though to say he was expecting anything other than a formulated question is a lie.  “Intimate?” he parroted, suddenly feeling awkward, “Uh… shit, I dunno… sex.  Sex is intimate.”

            Near scoffed and nudged him, “Aside from that.”

            Mello sighed, slouching against him, “Fine.  Huh… waking up with someone, that’s intimate.  Someone riding on my bike with me is kinda intimate, I guess.  Showering with someone.  Cuddling.”  Near nodded to all of this, so Mello asked him, “What’s intimate to you?  I mean, you don’t even let people touch you so-,”

            “Exactly.” Near interrupted, leaning back even more into Mello just to make sure Mello could feel him there, “I don’t touch or like to be touched.  I’ve never considered what intimacy means to me because it has never been an issue.  But this,” Near sighed, and let his head fall so it was rest against Mello’s, “this is intimate to me.  I’ve never let someone be this close to me, Mello.”

            “Never?” Mello asked, feeling like the wind was just ripped out of his lungs.

            Near nodded, continuing his mindless stacking.

            Mello swallowed hard and forced himself to calm down, never mind that Near’s confession of intimacy was, in and of itself, intimate. “Okay,” Mello said when he knew he needed an answer but didn’t have one, “that’s okay.” He froze, thinking fast, “Shit… Are you okay?  With this, I mean.”

            It was the first time in a long time that Mello heard Near laugh, and he decided that his laugh was cute.  It was dorky, very throaty but light, unlike his voice – feminine was a better word for it.  “Yes, I’m… I’m okay with it.” There was a pause of thought; his hand paused in its descent to the tower.  When it resumed, Near said, “I like it.”

            Mello let himself smile a little at that, “Good.  I’m glad.  Here,” He pulled the blanket long ways around them, letting it rest also on Near’s shoulders and then slid his arms around his waist. “Is this okay?”

            He was tense for a considerably smaller time than the past hour or so, relaxing faster and faster into Mello, before nodding and continuing to build his tower. 

            Mello still didn’t quite understand Near, but he understood him a bit better than before.  On top of that, he now understood why L never chose a successor.  He would have known from the start who he wanted; the great detective wouldn’t have needed years to ponder over whom should succeed him.  He chose them, together, as a pair, to succeed him.  Because they were not nearly as strong without the other; they would not succeed L or catch Kira without the other.

            And so, Mello thought, maybe he could do this “working together” thing with the small, white ball of a person in his lap right now.  Who knows, they might even be good for each other at the end of it all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this! Posted this originally on my tumblr (@inkonmywrist) and thought I should share it here too. Comments are appreciated!


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